


In the Dark of the Night

by the_gabih



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, M/M, Self-Lubrication, Succubi & Incubi, Vampires, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_gabih/pseuds/the_gabih
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel went out to get an easy fix of  blood, nothing more. But when a stranger helps him out after his car breaks down, he finds himself with an arrangement that could be more permanent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Dark of the Night

When he views this evening in retrospect, he’ll see that having his car break down when it did was a rare stroke of luck. At this moment, though, Castiel is hard-pressed to see it. He’s already well-fed from the various clubbers thronging through the streets, granted, but his purpose here is done, and he does not want to stay a minute longer than he absolutely has to. And just to add insult to injury, his phone is dead.

But then...

“Hey, you okay?”

The speaker, when Castiel turns to see him, is human-looking, blending in almost perfectly with the crowds around him in nondescript jeans, t-shirt and overshirt. The thing is, though, it was November, and the only people not wearing coats were the high school girls sacrificing their kidneys on the altar of getting boys to notice them. Castiel frowns, and sniffs the air. He smells human enough, this stranger, but there's something...

“I’m fine. It’s just my car,” he says. The stranger nods.

“Yeah, I noticed. Looks like a faulty ignition switch.”

Castiel frowns. “How did you...?”

“There was no noise when you tried to start it up, but you got your lights working okay,” the stranger explains. “Rules out a flat battery, and if it was most other problems, the lights would have dimmed or turned off completely. So, ignition switch. Probably.”

“You were watching me?”

The stranger shrugs. “Hey, it’s a sweet car, and there was a pretty sweet piece of ass getting in it, too. Can you blame me?”

Forward, and apparently competent. And not exactly hard on the eyes either. Castiel finds himself beginning to warm to the man, despite his misgivings. “I suppose not.” He holds out a hand. “Castiel Milton.”

If the man is non-human, as he suspects he is, then... yes, there, a flicker of recognition. Castiel may not be the Alpha vampire, but his name still carries weight. The stranger smiles, slow and broad. “Dean,” he tells him, holding out a hand for him to shake. “Dean Winchester.”

The name is not familiar; Castiel files it away for research later. “Pleased to meet you,” he says, stepping forward to take the proferred hand.

He’s not sure why, but all of a sudden Dean’s smell is far stronger. And it’s glorious- woodsmoke and coffee and something else he can’t place but which makes him want to get closer, touch him further, press right against the skin and bite and take and fuck-

“Incubus,” he realises. “You’re an incubus.”

“Got it in one,” says Dean, with a smile that borders on a smirk, and oh, the things Castiel wants to do to that mouth... “But about your car- I know a guy who runs a garage. I can get him to pick it up in the morning, if you want?”

“I will consider it,” Castiel agrees. It isn’t as though he can call his own garage just yet, after all. “Thankyou for the offer.”

Dean shrugs dismissively. “No problem. In the meantime...” The smirk comes out in full force then, and Castiel is hard pressed to maintain his composure instead of diving in and kissing it off his smug face. “I take it you’re gonna need a ride?”

“...if you’re offering,” he says, and he could kick himself for saying it- there must be a taxi rank somewhere around here- but it’s worth it for the way Dean’s face lights up, almost imperceptibly.  Castiel barely knows the man, and yet he already wants to work to keep that look on his face.

Even so, he’s fairly sure that if Dean turns out to be a threat, he could take him out. He’s not that weak.

“Yeah. My car’s right over there.”

Castiel nods. “Lead on, then.”

 

* * *

 

Getting into an enclosed space with an incubus, as it turns out, is a very bad idea. The whole car smells of Dean- reeks of him and his pheromones- and Castiel finds himself shifting a little awkwardly in his seat. Dean doesn’t seem to notice, just starts up the car, scowling at the group of guys staggering in front of his car and keeping him from moving. Music blares from the cassette player- how quaint-and it’s loud and not something Castiel would normally listen to, but right now all he can think of is how good a soundtrack it would be to sex.

God, his mind’s in the gutter tonight. He fists his hands in his pant legs and casts his eye around for something else to think of, except all he sees are couples. Couples holding hands, couples swaying against each other, couples kissing, couples who really just need to get a room already and stop tormenting sexually frustrated onlookers.

“Hey, you okay?” He looks over to see Dean looking at him, the heartbeats from outside the car sufficiently dulled that the incubus’ stands out. Elevated, pupils dilated, though that could just be down to the fact that it’s nighttime, Castiel doesn’t want to presume...

“I’m fine.”

“Sure? ‘Cause you- oh.” Castiel blinks, and follows Dean’s gaze down to his crotch. Oh indeed.

“I...”

“It’s fine,” says Dean. He sounds a little hoarse. “Unless you want some help with that?”

Castiel stares at him for a few long moments. From the speakers, a singer is shrieking, the backing guitars rhythmic and he wonders if they could make the car rock in time to the music. And well, why not try? He leans over, letting the stroke of his hand along Dean’s jaw be his answer. Dean exhales loudly and leans in for a kiss, making a soft, pleased noise as his lips meet Castiel’s, pressing himself against the back of the seat and pulling Castiel in until he’s almost on top of him-

“Get a room!” someone yells, and while Castiel’s not entirely sure if it was addressed to them or to someone else, it’s enough to break through the haze. Dean’s eyes are wide, lips red, cheeks flushed, heart rate faster than ever, though Castiel’s temporarily-beating heart is straining to catch up.

“So,” he murmurs. “Is this the right time to ask ‘my place or yours’?”

“Mine,” says Castiel, because yes, yes it is, and for all that he’s usually so careful about not letting anyone know where he lives, there’s something about Dean- the way he smells, the way Castiel imagines he tastes- that makes  him want to throw caution to the wind.

It’s not like it’s his only house, after all.

Dean blasts his horn, startling passers-by into leaping out of their way, and floors the pedal even before Castiel’s told him his address and how to get there. He can understand that; even as it is, the journey there takes far too long, and he grinds the heel of his hand down against his crotch, biting his lip as streets and houses flash past until they finally come to a halt and stagger out the door.

Any grace their movements may have had is lost as Dean paws and clutches at him- it’s a wonder Dean remembers to lock the car, really, and that Castiel remembers how to unlock his own front door- but that’s forgotten as he rushes Dean inside and slams him up against the wall, and it’s stupidly gratifying when the other man’s leg hitches up around Castiel’s hips.

“Cas... oh, _fuck_.”

Castiel doesn’t know when Dean decided his name could do with four fewer letters, but as long as he keeps saying it in that voice, he really couldn’t care less. “Is that a request?”

“What do you think?” Dean asks, eyebrow raised in a decidedly cocky manner. Castiel growls in response.

“I think,” he murmurs, stroking a hand over the obvious show of interest in the front of Dean’s pants, “that you’re a brazen whore who will take what he is given and _like it_.”

There’s always a little undercurrent of worry here- Dean’s been acting submissive enough so far, but that doesn’t necessarily equate to wanting to be verbally put down- but Castiel’s relieved when his words are greeted with a low moan. “Is that a yes, Dean?”

“Yeah.” Dean swallows, rocking against Castiel’s hand. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good boy,” Castiel tells him, with a quick, chaste kiss as if to reward his good behaviour. “Wait here.”

“Where are you going?” Dean looks confused, almost worried. Castiel smiles at him a little sardonically.

“Well, I’m not sure quite how much experience you’ve had in this area, but the usual practice is to use some form of lubricant, and seeing as I don’t have any to hand...”

Dean shakes his head. “No need.”

Castiel shoots Dean a quizzical look, to which the incubus just grins and grasps his hand, sliding it down beneath the waistband of his jeans, between his boxers and his skin. It’s cramped enough that only Castiel’s hand fits into the space, but he takes the hint and slides it further down, fingers slipping through the hair at Dean’s ass until- slickness.

He’s _wet_.

It takes a few moments for the implications of that to sink in before Castiel’s eyes open wide. “A breeder.”

“Oh yeah.” Dean’s grin gets that much wider, and fuck if Castiel doesn’t want him all the more. For a non-human to be able to carry children is rare enough, but for a male to have that capability? The man in front of him is rarer than Castiel thought, all but unique.

And yet.

“You were going to give that away? Just spread your legs for whoever wanted you? Did you need to be filled to badly you would allow a stranger to sire your children, Dean- were you truly so desperate for a cock?”

Dean shivers, shakes his head. “No. Was waiting.”

“Waiting?”

“Waiting for the right person.” His hand travels slowly up Castiel’s body, fingers just barely grazing him as they trace a line up to his jaw. “Someone strong, someone who could protect our children.” The grin morphs into a bit of a smirk. “Being able to give me pretty ones  is kind of a bonus, too. So what do you say, Castiel? Think you’re up for that?”

His tone is flippant, but there’s something else behind it. Hardly surprising, really- Dean’s offering up his body in the most complete way imaginable, gambling everything on the chance that a stranger might be trustworthy, and Castiel shudders to think what might have happened had he chosen wrongly. But he hasn’t. Castiel is drawn to him, drawn to love and fuck and protect him, all the more now that thoughts of something more than just a one night stand come to mind. Thoughts of Dean, his belly swollen with Castiel’s children. With _their_ children.

Castiel has his coven, has his Children and he delights in each and every one of them, as he should. But he’s never had a family before, and so he pulls back just far enough to meet Dean’s eyes as he murmurs:

“I would be honored, Dean.”

Dean stares at him for a few more moments, then seems to relax, his smile gentling, becoming more genuine. “In that case, you know what to do.”

It’s Castiel’s turn to smirk this time, and he quickly works his hand out of Dean’s jeans (though not without a quick grope of his ass on the way) in order to get them undone. He makes short work of the button, practically rips the zip open and quickly slides both them and his boxers down, pressing kisses and gentle nips to the back of his neck all the while. Dean gasps, pushing his hips back against Castiel’s, wet enough already that he smears a damp patch onto his pants. Not that Castiel minds, but if this is going to be a long-term thing, then he feels like there’s a few things that need establishing. Namely, the fact that Dean is most definitely _not_ the one in charge here. His next bite is harder, almost breaking skin before he shoves Dean up against the wall, relishing in the whimper the action brings him.

“Careful now, those pants cost quite a bit. I would hate to stain them, even for such a good cause.”

Dean just keens at him, spreading his legs wider and pressing his cheek against the wallpaper. “Then I think the solution here is kinda obvious, don’t you?”

“Oh, there are several presenting themselves to me right now. The question is, which route to take?” Castiel licks a trail up Dean’s jugular, thrilling at the feel of the blood flow just below the skin. “Stopper it up with a toy while I reduce you to a quivering wreck, maybe? I have several that could serve the purpose admirably. Or...” Another bite, barely more than a graze of teeth; he can’t let himself go, not just yet, not until Dean’s been fed properly. Castiel’s fingers slide up his sides to flick and tug at a nipple, which doesn’t get him much of a reaction, and to scratch along his collarbone, which does. “...perhaps I should bring you down to the floor, have you kneel in front of me while I eat you out? That would keep my pants, at least, out of harm’s way.”

“Or you could just fucking ta- mmph!” Dean glares at Castiel above the hand clamped over his mouth, but Castiel does nothing more than raise an eyebrow back.

“Did I say you were allowed to interrupt me?” The glare does not abate and so Castiel grasps him that much tighter, leaning in close, voice dropping almost to a snarl. “Did I?”

Dean stares at him, wide-eyed, then shakes his head as much as he can. Castiel rewards him with a brief stroke of his cock that has him keening before he undoes his own zipper. He can feel the way Dean’s breath picks up against his hand, and he’s careful to draw things out for as long as he can manage, making sure that every sound he makes is as loud as it can be. Dean all but whimpers against his hand when he slides his pants down, the rustle of fabric and clunk of Castiel’s belt hitting the floor promising everything he’s desperate for, but Castiel makes no move to fuck him just yet. Shoes off, first, and when his own are done he slides his hands over Dean’s, pressing them against the wall. “Stay still.”

Dean looks a little worried, but does as he’s told (God, Castiel’s going to have so much fun with this one), his hands curling into fists against the wall as Castiel’s move further down. The vampire bends, nudging at Dean’s leg until he lifts it enough to allow his shoe to be taken off, then does the same for the other so that Dean’s left entirely naked before him and oh, but that’s a sight Castiel could get used to. He traces his hands up his legs, trailing his fingertips through the slick that’s dribbled down his thighs and following its path up to Dean’s hole, smirking as he hears the incubus’ breath hitch. “Someone’s desperate.”

Dean gasps a laugh that turns into a moan as Castiel slides a finger inside him; he’s looser than he’d expected, and he wonders if there were... preparations involved before he left for the night. The thought is arousing. “No shit Sherlock,” he says, with a smile that holds just a hint of a smirk.

Castiel gives him a hard look for that, and a bite to the lower lip. “I still haven’t asked you to speak.”

The incubus shuts up, but raises an eyebrow in a way that Castiel is fairly certain is meant as a challenge. He considers not giving in at first, maybe even punishing Dean for the insolence, but eventually decides against it; he’s as hard as Dean is wet, and it’s not like there won’t be time for punishments later. For now, there’s something they both want, and Castiel sees no reason not to get on with it already.

He grasps his cock loosely, setting the tip against Dean’s hole for a brief moment before pushing slowly inside him. Dean shudders, moans again and pushes his hips back to meet him until Castiel’s cock is almost entirely buried inside him. Definitely earlier preparation involved, or other sexual partners. Not that Castiel cares, not when this feels so utterly fucking glorious (though the latter thought sparks something possessive off inside him).

“Look at you,” he says, pulling back and thrusting forward again, still slow. “So open and wet for me. Fucking slut, you’re made for this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, nodding. “Fucking love it, huge fucking cocks like yours in my ass.”

He’s almost certain that was meant to be teasing, and he growls and snaps his hips forward, fucking into him far more sharply than before. Dean looks over his shoulder, giving him a look that’s coy and dark and filthy, as if to say ‘is that it?’ Castiel growls in response, and before Castiel knows it he’s slamming the other man hard against the wall. Dean rocks up onto his tiptoes with the force of the thrust, gasping a breathless moan that’s halfway to a laugh until Castiel shuts him up by shifting the position of his hand a little, and pushing two fingers inside his mouth.

“Is that better for you?” He asks, his voice little more than a murmur, hitching with every thrust. Dean whines around his fingers in response, nodding as much as he can in his position; Castiel smirks. “Good.”

He pulls out before Dean can so much as whimper again, pulling him away from the wall and turning him around roughly only so that he can slam him back again a moment later, covering Dean’s near-wail with his mouth, hands fixing the incubus’ wrists to the wall. Dean opens up willingly for him, spreading his legs that much wider when Castiel presses one of his own between them and all but fucking himself against his thigh and hip until the vampire growls and forces him to stop.

“No.”

“Cas...” Dean bites his lip, almost shaking with need. “Cas, please, I need it. Need you. Please. Feel so empty without you, I- _oh_.”

Castiel smirks, twisting the finger he just slid inside Dean’s ass. “Ssh, Dean. Listen. The second room on the right as you go up the stairs is mine. When I come up there, I expect to see you on the bed waiting for me. Do anything other than that, and you will not be fed. Understood?” His words are met by silence, and he growls and presses his finger in again. “I said, is that understood?”

“Yes,” Dean gasps. “Yes, Cas, whatever- whatever you want.”

“Good.” Castiel withdraws his finger and presses a light kiss to the back of the incubus’ neck. “Go on, then.”

Dean glances round to Castiel, looking almost skittish, but does as he’s told, looking back every so often as he climbs the stairs and the vampire doesn’t follow. Castiel takes the opportunity to stare unabashedly, wetting his lips at the sight of Dean’s cock, and the mess between his legs, and the ever-so-pretty flushed look on his face.

Once he’s gone, he sets about picking their clothes up off the floor. It’s a task that could be easily left to one of his Children, granted, but it gives him something to do while he makes Dean wait. He folds them, gathers them into a pile, sets the shoes by the door and takes a few moments to send a message to his Children to let them know that he may be in need of a supply of high-energy human foods. Only after that’s done does he make his way upstairs.

Dean is waiting for him, as ordered, sitting cross-legged on the bed, hunched in on himself; Castiel may have left him too long, but no matter. He’ll be fed, and soon. He places the clothes on the dresser at the other end of the room, not particularly bothering to sort them according to owner before he moves to climb onto the bed next to Dean, drawing the incubus into his lap for a kiss. Dean mewls and goes delightfully pliant, allowing himself to be pushed down against the mattress and spreading his legs. His writhing is downright wanton his whispered ‘Cas’s and pleas gorgeous as anything, and a few moments later Castiel’s burying himself inside that tight wet heat once more.

There’s no teasing this time, just hard and fast fucking, Dean’s hands scrabbling for purchase on Castiel’s back as the force of his thrusts moves him gradually up the bed as he moans. “Fuck yes, oh shit Cas yes right there, God...”

“Touch yourself,” Castiel tells him, since his hand is occupied with holding the headboard to keep Dean from going any further up and hitting his head, and he is obeyed. Dean wraps a hand around his own cock, stroking with a finesse that disintegrates as Castiel continues to fuck into him. He’s all but thrashing beneath him at this point, shuddering and sweating and clenching around Castiel’s cock until he can’t, _can’t_ hold on any more. He comes with a hiss that evens out into a sigh, spilling his load inside Dean and giving the incubus all of a few seconds to relax and feed before he wraps a hand around his cock and gives it a sharp stroke, then another, and before long Dean’s arching up against him, almost sobbing in pleasure.

“There you go,” Castiel tells him, his voice back to a murmur as he raises his hand to his lips and licks away the come and sweat and slick that’s accumulated there with slow strokes of his tongue. Dean makes a soft, contented noise, and before Castiel knows it he’s being drawn down for a kiss.

Castiel thinks he’d like to see him in the daylight some day, burns be damned. For now, the moonlight traces along his limbs, sliding over arms and legs and dripping over his muscles as he shifts in the vampire’s grip, his movements lazy and languid with satiation.

“Cas?”

He’s still warm from his earlier feeding, can still feel some semblance of a heartbeat pumping the blood around his body, but there Dean is, open and enticing and smelling so very fucking gorgeous beneath him that he can’t quite resist bending his head down to taste, just for a moment. His teeth graze across the skin at Dean’s neck and Castiel takes a moment to inhale his scent until Dean tilts his head back, baring his neck for him in invitation. “Such a good boy,” Castiel tells him, delighted by the way Dean hums in agreement, and barely has his second set of teeth slid out before the incisors are pricking at Dean’s skin, sinking through flesh to the hot blood beneath.

He’s fed from all kinds of things before- human and not- but even with that wealth of experience behind him, nothing comes close to the rich tang of Dean’s blood as it hits his tongue, warm and wet and with this strange tang to it that Castiel’s instantly hooked on. He presses Dean harder against the mattress, almost groaning. God, if nothing else, he’d happily keep him just for this.

For all that the taste is divine, though, he still pulls back before long. He can’t afford to take too much- won’t be able to for at least nine months or so, if what Dean told him comes to pass. But he thinks he could content himself with just a taste, here and there. At least for now.

Dean touches a finger to the bite, ever so gingerly, then brings it round to his mouth to suck on, his eyes fluttering closed as he tastes his own blood and whatever Castiel may have left there.

He’s beautiful. He is like nothing else, and Castiel is about to open his mouth and command that he never leave him, never leave this room, this bed, when Dean opens his eyes again, smiling up at him with just a hint of coyness.

“Can I keep you?”

Castiel smiles indulgently, and leans in for a kiss. “As long as you like.”


End file.
